Autumn leaves

The crisp fall weather is upon us. Part of me is excited, and part of me is bummed.

I’m excited, of course, because fall is my favorite season for running — beautiful scenery, ideal temps, the allure of fall races.

I’m a bit bummed out because I’m not training for a fall marathon. Since running my 50K in July, I had a long recovery, a few nagging injuries, and then a whole bunch of work piled up in other parts of my life. Now it’s too late to start training for a big fall race.

Plus, I promised Mrs. Trail Boy that I would take a breather, and get reacquainted after a tough spring and summer of training.

But I didn’t make any promises about half-marathons. Now I plan to take in a few of those this fall.

My goal this week is to find a few good ones worth training for, then run then for everything I have. They don’t have to be in my neck of the woods. In fact, I wouldn’t mind doing a little traveling in October or November.

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Today was a day of rushing around, pell-mell, trying to do everything on the last day of a holiday weekend. I saw the last round of family and friends, ate lots of picnic food, had a few laughs.

But what I didn’t do today was any running.

There just wasn’t time, between the packing, the visiting, the cook-outs and a six-hour drive home — made even longer by a horrendous accident on I-70 near Dayton that backed up traffic for over an hour. We didn’t get home until almost 10 p.m.

Tomorrow is another day.

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Yesterday, I wrote a few sentences about how the big toenail on my right foot finally fell off.

That was such a relief. That old toenail was so sore and tender and took forever to fall off. I’ve been hobbling around a bit, trying to avoid stepping hard on that toe. It’s been difficult running.

Thank God that nonsense is finally over, and I can start running hard again.

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I just can’t keep up.

Just when I feel all proud of myself for zipping around town with a BT50K bumper sticker on my Jeep, I had my come-uppance over the weekend.

When I visited the Cuyahoga Valley National Park, I saw plenty of BR100 bumper stickers on cars. That stands for Burning River 100 — a 100-mile ultra that is now in its third year.

One hundred miles? How hard can that be?

Guess I now have a new goal.

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